


The Diary of Caladwen

by Gallifrey_Refugee



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Because everyone loves a sassy doctor, Gen, I decided to actually try and write fanfiction, I went with my fave oc Caladwen, Not Beta Read, Rivendell tis a silly place, but I'm a science major for a reason, i tried my hardest, none of the injuries mentioned are graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-13
Packaged: 2018-08-22 03:10:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8270365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gallifrey_Refugee/pseuds/Gallifrey_Refugee
Summary: Lord Elrond asks Cal to vent her frustrations via writing, he never said sarcasm and mockery weren't allowed. In which the herbal mistress of Imladris lists what happens when elves are not closely monitored at all times.





	1. Entry #1

**Author's Note:**

> Lady 'Cal' Caladwen is the head of Rivendell's healing houses because surely Elrond isn't always available to see to every little injury in the day to day. She utilizes a very tongue-in-cheek method of healing. 
> 
> Setting is the third age, before the hobbit, but after Arwen is a full adult.
> 
> Original male character is Elion Oropherion, in a nutshell, he is the half-brother of Thranduil because Elrond got drunk once at a party. Someday I'll post his story, but it is not this day.

~~Dear Diary,~~

Journal of Lady Caladwen of Imladris  
Entry #1

Blessed Eru almighty, why am I even doing this? Wait I know why; it’s because Lord ‘thinks he is ever so superior at being a healer because he got a fancy education in the city’ Elrond commanded it. **Commanded it.** It would seem that he believes that I am “overstressed” and that I "need an outlet to channel my frustrations”. Honestly, I wouldn’t have so many quote-unquote 'frustrations' if all of Imladris wasn’t out to try and get itself awarded for the stupidest injuries of the third age. To be completely free as well, I wouldn’t even be writing this right now if Elrond had not only commanded I “at least try it”, but also stated that if I didn’t he would relieve me of my duties. If it were not for those two little roadblocks, I would be doing so many more productive things right now.

I suppose I should start out with the recurring reasons why I am “stressed out”. So the main cast of characters in a stage play written by me titled why I have the worst headache:

\- Prince Elion Oropherion: problem level 20%  
The Prince is not actually that bad of a problem, he is rather sweet actually. He more finds himself inserted into situations that end with him having to make ridiculous explanations for his injuries. He also isn’t actually a prince, unless you count how he is the great-great-grandson of Turgon King of Gondolin. This would mean that if Elrond, his biological but not technically real father, were ever to reinstate the throne of the High King again he would be an heir to it. (honestly, if anything, where this kid came from alone makes me want to lie down.)

-Glorfindel ~~Of the house of the Golden Flower of Gondolin~~ Of Imladris now: problem level 40%  
As I said, the Prince is not actually all that bad, he is a bit awkward and has a tendency to get quite the storm cloud demeanor occasionally. But that is forgivable when one has had a Dark Lord turn one’s mind into his personal playground for seven years. However, sadly, the Prince is also very impressionable. Glorfindel is the main reason he is ever seen here at all; because typically Elion is rarely in the houses of healing without being accompanied by the golden walking mass of hair himself, or a story that involves him.

\- Lord Elrond Peredhel of Imladris: problem level 10%  
As a healer and a scholar, Elrond is rarely ever in my presence because he is injured. No, he comes because he is in a mood of embracing the healer side of his character. However, because he is the lord of the city, he firmly believes he can tell me how to do my job. The saving grace that keeps his problem factor low is that with him tends to come his ever wonderful wife. Bless her soul, I would have killed him before we got a century in.

\- Lord Elrond’s Children: problem level 29%  
Unlike their mother, they are not an absolute delight, and unlike their father, they are often in my presence because of stupid decisions. Arwen actually only takes up about 2% of the whole, she doesn’t come to me often, but when she does it involves some of the most ridiculous things. She thinks things through, just not always all the way, I personally blame the mortal blood in her veins. The Twins, however…the twins are in my presence just slightly less than the migraine-inducing dynamic duo of the Prince and the oversized dandelion. This most likely, I believe, is because they only have one brain to share between the two of them and their sister inherited all of it.

-The actual rest of the entire populace of Imladris: problem level 1%  
Don’t get me wrong, I understand that accidents do happen. But a good deal of these accidents are quite often far too stupid and too frequent to merit a scotch free sentencing.

There I wrote one actual entry to this thing. Though I will likely not show it to anyone. I don’t think that anyone should be privy to actually know what goes on within my head when I’m causing repetitive trauma to my jaw via the gritting of my teeth.


	2. Entry #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day in the life.

The Journal of Lady Caladwen of Imladris  
Entry #2

Alright here goes the first real entry of a journal that I have decided will remain completely private. A journal is a location that one lists all of their more personal thoughts, no? Also I feel a patient should not know how much their healer wants to punch them in the face. After I get a few entries done I will flash a couple pages to Elrond to prove I tried it, and then move on to something worth my time. I suppose the best way to go about this is to just list things as they happened through the day.

Isilya, 12th day of Lavas

Shortly after Sunrise

My favorite time of the day really, I rose roughly with the sun and went to the kitchens where I was able to take some of the fruit and pastries that were to be served to Elrond and his family. In retaliation for making me start keeping a journal, I stole the berry and cream filled ones that the Lord likes best for breakfast. I arrived at the houses of healing to find them delightfully empty and wonderfully silent. I took my time eating and ensuring everything was well sorted for the day. For the day is where things only go downhill at an increasing rate.

Mid-morning

\- Beilen walked in, late and hungover, honestly, the apprentices of this age, when I studied under Estë if I ever THOUGHT (and I do mean thought, those valar with their unasked for mind readings) of coming in with a hangover I would have been scrubbing poultice flasks for hours.

\- Rador the gardener came in to offer me a selection of the herbs he just harvested. I sifted through the collection and found some very nice specimens, I got Beilen right on the task of cleaning glasses for the poultices I planned on making. Along with the herbs, Rador also seemed to bring in a rather nasty gash on his hand that apparently he somehow managed to get playing a game of silver spoons last night. I treated it better than his dubious and most likely unsanitary handkerchief compression and sent him on his way.

\- Aithel came by to ask for some herbs to encourage vomiting, upon inquiry she told me that apparently her son got talked into chugging an entire jug of milk even though he has an intolerance to the stuff and now has “the dark lord of all stomach aches”.

\- Beilen asked if he could be excused to take an ‘early lunch’, I gave him an hour. It’s been two.

Noon

\- Lastril came in to relieve Beilen to his studies, she works in the kitchens in the morning to make wages for her family since her mother had an accident and cannot use her hands well and her father has a bad back and can only work on occasion. Such horrid circumstances, great work ethic though. I explained Beilen’s early lunch situation and she told me that she was hardly surprised.

\- Thandirion came in with a broken finger. Apparently, he had been “distracted” by “the most beautiful couple of maidens (guessing by his blush I’m sure he didn’t mean two actual individual girls) he had ever seen” It was then that his hammer “just missed” the horseshoe he had been working on.

\- Lindir walked in with a limp, I didn’t list him as a problem patient despite how often he comes to me, the poor dear is just horribly clumsy. (Or he is escorting his husband in here) he explained he was going to inquire what Elrond wished for lunch and tripped on an uneven flagstone. A minor twisting that I wrapped up while listening to him get flustered over an imperceptible tear in his robes. I sent him on his way to go sit and practice his harp.

\- I was beginning to get hopeful, it was nearly dinner time and I had seen neither hide nor hair of the Prince or Glorfindel. They both came in at the same time, heavily leaning on each other, I at first thought they were drunk. But goodness no, that would make too much sense. We had some traders from the town of Bree doing business. They both made a purchase of the halfling weed. Not in any way thinking that what would be enough to satisfy the ever hearty halfling would also please a full grown warrior elf. Naturally, they then smoked enough between the two of them to sedate a wild boar. This wasn’t the issue, the issue was that they went right ahead and smoked such a large amount without realizing that apparently the Prince has an allergy to the weed. The most I could do was sigh deeply and remedy my entire store of nettle leaf.

\- I took some nettle seeds to Rador to restock before someone had a life threatening allergic reaction to something. I crossed Celebrían and suddenly found myself receiving a backrub under an apple tree. She wouldn’t take ‘no, I’m busy’ for an answer and insisted that I needed it. She can refuse all she wants, her similarities to her mother are beyond uncanny. Upsides were I got a wonderful shoulder massage and the joy of seeing Elrond from afar internally arguing with himself over if he should interrupt or not.

Evening

\- One would think things should slow down in the evening. In most professions yes, not this one. Lucky me, I know.

\- Olthion arrived in a whirlwind, having cut off the tip of his finger. He apparently had been trying to give orders to the kitchen staff and slicing carrots at the same time. He was very demanding that I tend to it as quickly as possible. I then logically took my sweet time. Silly of him to think he can order me about. Men may have two heads, but they should leave thinking about two things at once to the women.

\- Erestor came in as eerily calm as was usual. I asked what was wrong and he told me that one of the twins had “snuck up” on him while he was working. He was startled enough that he dropped his letter opener just right that it had gone through his foot. He then lifted his robes to present his foot with the object still impaled through it. I really have no further comment on the matter.

\- Glorfindel entered while I was still extricating a letter opener from Erestor’s foot, he opened his mouth to say something, but a look from Erestor silenced whatever that thought was. For which I was very grateful. He backed down quickly and then informed me that Elion had come back to his right senses and thought that I should know. He also returned some of the remaining nettles. Decent enough of him I suppose.

\- After Erestor, I left the halls to Lastril while I went to get the both of us something to eat. I returned with a full tray to the twins. Lovely. Elladan it seemed had been the culprit in the Erestor debacle and was back at it again. He had gone to his brother in the stables who had been tending a supposedly very skittish horse. His sudden greeting of his brother had the animal rearing up and kicking Elrohir into the wall. Thankfully nothing was broken, I gave Elrohir a good checking over and bound two bruised ribs. I suggested Elladan find himself a bell and make it a new part of his regular wardrobe.

\- Dinner was pleasant, nothing happened, which was nice.

\- Beilen returned, partially supported by a couple of servants, and soaking wet. He had decided that the best cure for a hangover was more wine. Gotten drunk again and then fallen off a footbridge into the river.

\- Lastril excused herself for the night after we ensured Beilen was well. I don’t think the sun could have taken longer to set. I left a note saying that if any major emergencies arose to seek Lord Elrond. I immediately made my way to the bathhouses to take the longest hottest bath I could manage.

\- I returned to my rooms to write this awful thing and empty my decanter.

There a day in the life of Lady Caladwen, that’s at least two entries. I suppose a solid five counts as a try. Perhaps if I cross my fingers hard enough in bed tomorrow will be better. Or I break my finger and can take the day off. Win win really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on tumblr at gallifrey-refugee.tumblr.com


	3. Entry #3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A frustrated healer takes a vacation.

The Journal of Lady Caladwen  
Entry #3  
*Note: ‘El is Cal’s nickname for Galadriel

Valanya 30th day of Firith

It has been some time since I have written an entry, but I was in route to Lothlórien. Lord Elrond had come to see if I was going through with his journal idea and I showed him the two entries I already had written. I then told him I was taking a vacation. He tried to argue with me but Lady Celebrían won. I then accompanied her over the mountains…Along with Arwen and the Twins…who lord Elrond insisted should visit their grandparents as well.  
Celebrían insisted that I was paranoid to think he sent them with us on purpose. I told her that when you grow up with ‘El you learn a lot of the signs of petty revenge. Not to mention I have been waging this unspoken war with that fastidious half-elven son of a star since before she and him even met. 

I would also like to submit to the record that he started it.

But that is neither here nor there, I am now back in the ever stress-free environment of beautiful Imladris where everything is…okay, he walked away, I don’t know where Elrond learned to act like he wasn’t reading over someone’s shoulder, but that person should be fired. Now a highlight of the less than entertaining cases I had to face since last we spoke.

Lothlórien:

\- We hadn’t even arrived yet actually, but we were close enough to the borders I am counting it as there. Elladan and Elrohir decided they would start a race with each other. I was then subjected to treating their bloody noses while they both were arguing that the former pushed the latter into the low hanging branches.

\- People seem to think that the Lord and Lady of Lórien are ethereal and intangible to the effects of reality. Silly folks them. Since no one will ever be reading this, I can write the little-known fact that ‘El is actually ticklish, very ticklish. It’s mostly her stomach and sides, but also on the bottoms of her feet. Which is why she walks around barefoot everywhere, she is trying to keep them callous enough that they cannot be used against her. It is actually this walking barefoot that she made a spot in this journal, a group of workers was doing repairs on a veranda and she meant to go around them. Tread right over a thorn bush hidden under some fallen leaves. \- I actually saw the little accident from afar, impressive enough she kept herself completely calm and even made conversation with the workers until Celeborn swept in from near nowhere and carried her to me. How sweet. The sight I mean, she had three older brothers, you must believe me when I say she was cursing a blue streak while I plucked the thorns out.

\- Ah, Marchwardens, In battle they are infallible, some of the best archers you can get, when they have nothing but patrol to occupy their time you would be shocked by the ideas they get in their heads. For example, I was talking with ‘El and we were interrupted by a young healer who asked for some more professional assistance. A couple of young Wardens had decided they were sick of going on patrol all the time. So they did the only logical thing to get out of their duties and shot each other in the foot. The best part, they mistakenly did it with their barbed arrows.

\- In the late fall, the game in the woods begins to get scarce, so the hunters and gathers tend to try to build up on meat that can be smoked and last long. A couple of brothers were fishing in the river around Caras Galdhron; while waiting for the net to fill up they decided to hunt about for crawfish. Innocent enough. One of them then spotted one that was near twice the size of all the others and was determined to catch it. He planted his feet on an algae covered rock and reached for it on the opposite bank. He then slipped and fell two feet into the rocky riverbed and was brought to me with his knee cap in the exact location it shouldn’t be.

\- Remember when I mentioned Arwen only comes to me with the most ridiculous of injuries? Well, it would seem she had been trying to learn a poem by heart, and she has a habit of pacing whilst memorizing things. When one is in a library this is fine. When one is on a talan that is about 6 yards off the ground, not so much. -She was fine, injured her shoulder and pride, the most serious injury was that she landed on Elladan who was knocked down and hit the outer edge of the stairs nearby. Dislocated his jaw. After ensuring they were both okay, Celebrían, ‘El, and I had a very hearty laugh about it. Within earshot of the injured parties of course.

Imladris

While there were many other, shall we say interesting, injuries during my stay in Lórien; those above were the best of the batch. After the mountain pass had thawed I returned to Imladris to remarkably find it not burned down. Truly shocking considering with me gone Elrond was in charge of the healing houses. It seems that all of Imladris was on their best behavior for him, though, he had nothing particularly interesting to report. I, however, I always get the best customers.

\- It would seem that I got to extend my vacation an extra couple hours as my first patient of the day was the Lord himself. As an actual patient as well, not to tell me how to do what I do. He tried to believe me he did. He walked in, or more hobbled really, with a thoroughly flustered Lindir at his tail. He wouldn’t tell me what he did and Lindir refused to betray Elrond. Though his undisguised set jaw proclaimed he was attempting to hold as much of his pride together as possible, leading me to believe it had to be good. Of course, if there is anything Celebrían enjoys, it’s taking Elrond down a notch, one of the many reasons I adore her. I found out later from her that even after not only building this place, but living in it for some two and a half thousand years he managed to forget that there were five steps that had to be descended when leaving his study. Some light ripping in his robes, a couple scratches on his palms, a horribly bruised pride, and a moment that I’m never going to let him live down.

\- Along the line of our lovely inhabitants forgetting silly things, this one actually made me have to sit down and laugh hard enough to cause Beilen concern. The Prince on a rare change of routine actually came in without mentioning Glorfindel. On the flip side, I feel bad for Lindir and what he has had to deal with all before noon. He came in with his betrothed, helping to guide him as he kept his head tipped forward and a cloth held to his bleeding nose.

He explained that Elion has never been a morning person, this was obvious considering it was almost noon. But he seemed especially groggy this particular morning. He went to stand up and somehow forgot that he was missing a leg, fell forward and collided face first into the wall. Lindir returned to his room to find the Prince partially curled up in the blankets that fell to the floor with him and gripping the corner to his face. I reset his nose, which aided in waking him up quite well, and prescribed Lindir with no less than an entire bottle of wine and the rest of the day off. 

‘El always insists that I should visit more than I do, likewise Celebrían thinks I need to get away from work more often. The problem being that to please both of them I would have to rendezvous with ‘El in the middle of a distant field and yet I feel I some poor lost traveler would still manage to find us and beg for aid in a ridiculous way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr at gallifrey-refugee.tumblr.com


	4. Entry #4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A healer's work is never done, even on holidays.

The Journal of Lady Caladwen  
Entry #4

I’m so close, two more entries and I can justify to myself that this whole idea was a complete failure and Elrond can shove writing for therapy on someone else. Oh, but what to write on, they say history repeats itself, and in Imladris, this is certainly true as I have had to treat the same injuries so many times I sometimes beg for something new to happen. Then I recall the last time I wished for something interesting to happen the Prince wandered in on the back of a horse, missing one leg with the other firmly planted half in Mandos. 

Bringing these events back to mind tend to make the feeling go away and I find myself almost pleased with mending Thandirion’s broken finger for the millionth time. This time with advice that maybe he should turn his anvil so that it doesn’t face the street and maybe he would stop being so “distracted” by all of these “lovely maidens”. That or maybe he should just go find himself a wife.

Oh, but I am reminded that something interesting did happen the other day. Well, I say ‘day’ when I mean during the Midsummer festival. Should I somehow forget to burn this or I drop dead suddenly and it is logged into a library somewhere I will briefly describe how the celebrations of Midsummer happen in most elvish settlements.

First off there are two camps, one where all the food, and dancing, and music, and jovial celebrations take place for the sake of the children and faint of heart. The second pavilion is typically set up under guard and mostly require a special length of cord of a specific color braided into your hair to enter. This is because Midsummer to the elvish in the simplest of terms is nothing short of complete debauchery. Historically this began with the first children in Cuiviénen; in which Midsummer was when the light of the trees would be brightest, and set the outer lands in a partially lit pseudo dusk for such a long time that Morgoth’s creatures of the dark didn’t need to be worried about. So naturally in the safety, they copulated with one another till their muscles gave out in hopes of continuing the generations. Of course, today we don’t need to worry so much about such things, but everyone likes the idea of “continuing ancient tradition”; or as I see it, everyone just likes the idea of getting down and dirty from first light to midnight. All in all, there is a reason there are two camps, we can’t let the Men see that the elves are not actually ethereal, magical, and don’t just magically pop out of thin air from the cabbage patch. 

Now with large amounts of alcohol consumption and other acts, I get all the interesting clientele, typically needing healing because they “might” have gone overboard or didn’t have sufficient preparation. Occasionally I get those who come in with red faces and mutter under their breaths that they have something stuck where it shouldn’t be. But of all the Midsummers I have had to sit through; typically with ‘El as she and Celeborn have ceased to feel the need for the physical between each other. So they say at least, I think that sounds horribly fake considering they couldn’t keep their hands off each other in Doriath (or Sirion, or Lindon, or Eregion, and I doubt in Lorien), but okay. This Midsummer has certainly been my favorite and I will tell you why.

Elrond doesn’t get drunk, no, Elrond Gets Drunk, I believe in the terminology of Men the phrase is absolutely wasted, cockeyed, goosed, hammered, and having a good look at the footpath. Some people think this is because he never drinks, so put a few glasses in him and he is four to the floor and unable to deal with it. In my opinion, it’s because he has been drinking to forget for nearly three and a half thousand years, and thus it takes an unbelievable amount of alcohol to get him tipsy and when they effects of it all hit him they hit him. 

It’s for this reason that people think this is why he almost never drinks. Still wrong, at least in Celebrían’s opinion. Typically when you get drunk you make a couple bad decisions and are then the butt of a few jokes for a few months. In Elrond’s case the last time he got blindingly drunk he slept with the wife of the late king of the Greenwood and fathered an illegitimate child that he didn’t know about until the end of the second age and didn’t tell his own wife about until 64 years after their marriage. If you can’t guess both ‘El and Celebrían still give him grief for it and I find that fantastic.

This particular Midsummer I don’t know how, but Glorfindel managed to wrap up Elrond, his sons, and the Prince into a drinking competition. Elrond won against Elion by two glasses and then promptly mistook ‘El as his wife, very passionately kissed her, and passed out. Celeborn refused to leave until he woke up, I refused to leave until I got to see a very angry jealous-type Sindarin Prince put the fear of Eru Ilúvatar into a severely hungover Elrond, Celebrían refused to leave until she could perhaps convince her father not to rip her husbands’ throat out, and ‘El just sat back enjoying the show.

Midsummer is a wonderful holiday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on tumblr! @gallifrey-refugee.tumblr.com


	5. Entry #5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All good things come to an end.

The Journal of Lady Caladwen   
Entry #5

 

Well, I suppose this is to be our last meeting then. I said I would write five entries and this is indeed the fifth. To be completely honest I am stopping less because I still think this is the single stupidest idea in the world and is completely ineffective. No, I suppose it is nice to have someone who actually listens to me every once in a while, even if that someone is a leather bound stack of papers. I’m afraid I must stop since I feel every entry will quickly become redundant. Not that often does something interesting happen really. I mean the most interesting thing as of late is that Glorfindel carried the Prince in here yesterday afternoon in the bridal fashion. 

I suppose that requires more context, but at the same time, I wasn’t at all surprised to see them back so soon.  
\- Climbing is a natural talent amongst most who hail from Lorien or the Greenwood. For reasons I can’t discern, all of them just like being in high places. I remember on occasion when ‘El and I would be searching Doriath all over for Celeborn only to literally have him drop in on us. This was, of course, a habit that was quickly snuffed when he landed behind me once and I “accidentally” was spooked enough to turn around and knock him out. Oops. 

Same thing goes for the Prince, nine times out of ten if you can’t find him, you should look on the rooftops, he just lazes around on them like an overgrown cat. Now of course with impressive talents, come gloating, and with gloating between Goldilocks and Princeling comes the putting of money where the mouth is in the most ridiculous of ways. If I had a single copper coin for every time those two came in injured as the result of some stupid bet, I would never have to work another day in my life. But sadly that is not the case and I am still having to take a deep breath and force a patient smile every time I hear the door open.

What happened precisely between these two was that the Prince had claimed he could climb anything and get down as quick as he got up. Believable, yes, but not something that needed to be tested. Glorfindel then promptly dared him to free climb the bell tower, no doubt making the same conclusion that the only way down quickly from such a height is to make a leap of faith dive into the nearby waterfall pool. Completely idiotic I say since Glorfindel knows quite well the Prince cannot swim and no doubt only made the wager on the expectation the Prince would refuse for sake of his safety and my sanity. 

He didn’t of course.

Thankfully Lindir has a brain in his head and informed Elrond, who shut down the entire operation before the first coin could be dropped in the bidding pool. Rather than take this as a sign of defeat, the two half-wits just reset up the bet, replacing bell tower with the climb up a sheer cliff, outside the city and thus outside Elrond's jurisdiction. 

I neither know, nor want to know the results of the bet, but I do know the Prince went up, and then went to cliff jump down into a quarry pool and knocked his toe on an uneven bit of rock, tripping and making a flailing and shouting landing in the water. Glorfindel who had been waiting in the water to fish him out then had to dive down and retrieve him then promptly in his worry ran the Prince soaking wet into my office and told the story of the events. 

After all that, the Prince only limped away with one broken toe.

My point here being that that is the most interesting thing that has walked in since I had to make up an entire pot of arnica cream for Elrond after his Midsummer misadventures. 

Most of the time things don’t get any more exciting than having to treat a burn on Erestors’ arm because he was continually reaching over a lit candle to take fruit from a platter next to him for the three hours he was at work. 

…

I lied it seems. I was just cleaning up when Erestor ushered thing one and two through the door. Elladan was holding a cloth to a bleeding gash on his wrist and his brother was making a noble attempt not to laugh uncontrollably. I took a deep breath and asked what happened.

\- Elladan had been doing some reading in the library and had been idly slipping his hand in and out between the slits of the backrest of his chair. It seemed either the chair “suddenly grew smaller” or “fat hands here” stuck his hand in too far, but Elladan suddenly found his hand stuck in the slit. Upon trying to get Erestor’s attention for aid he was promptly ignored because he had been enough of a nuisance that day already. It wasn’t until about twenty minutes later when Elrohir came in looking for his brother and saw his predicament. 

Apparently, he made so many bad puns about the situation that Erestor came over to shut him up personally and then noticed Elladan's hand, which had begun to bleed at this point from his attempted to be silent struggles. He then spent ten minutes helping him remove his hand and then another five as he walked behind the brother’s berating them on when it is important to speak up as they walked to my office. 

Perhaps I might keep this journal around a bit longer as a blackmail log for those particular face to palm inducing cases. But for now, I think I am done. I will show Elrond what I have and then go and convince myself that drinking one glass of wine a day doesn’t necessarily depend on the size of the glass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr @gallifrey-refugee.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> Comments very very welcome!


End file.
